


Adaptation

by starlightwalking



Series: A-Spectrum Anthology [19]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Aromantic Awareness Week, Aromantic Legolas, Arospec Tauriel, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other: See Story Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:46:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: Tauriel needs a date for the Ball of Arrival, but she doesn't want anyone to get the wrong idea about her intentions. Legolas is facing pressure from his father to settle down, but he is not interested. What starts out as a convenient arrangement develops into a fast friendship, but the intrusion of thirteen dwarves and a startling romance threatens to shake the foundation of their relationship.





	Adaptation

**Author's Note:**

> ok so this is tagged as both a fix-it fic AND a canon compliant fic and that's just because i couldn't decide which ending i liked better so i just included both scenes and threw some philosophical lines in there to attempt to make sense of it.  
> i've had this idea for forever and tried to write it a couple months ago but it turned into a lengthy story i wasn't prepared for so i came back to it for AAW!  
> this is a story about two arospec friends finding out more about each other and themselves, and a story about change but how one person's identity changing doesn't mean everyone's will.  
> also i hope you like my ocs lol  
> okay enough of my blathering :) hope you enjoy!

Usually, Tauriel loved holidays. She celebrated with an earnestness only a youthful elf such as herself could muster, drinking and caroling and pulling pranks on her fellow Guards. The Captain of the Guard, a crabby elleth named Garaveth, often complained that Tauriel was too zealous in her celebrations and ought to focus more on her job, but Tauriel dismissed such protestations by showering flower petals all over Garaveth's frowning face.

This holiday, however, left Tauriel in an awkward situation. While most woodelven holidays were festive and light-hearted, the Arrival was a more formal affair. It was still a celebration, honoring the coming of Oropher's Sindar people to the Woodland Realm and his family's acclimation to a new culture, but it was of a more serious nature.

The Arrival was only celebrated once every hundred years. Thranduil prepared a grand feast and a ball, and everyone was expected to come to the dance with a partner.

The first few of Tauriel's Arrivals, she hadn't bothered to attend. At one and two hundred, she was too young to truly appreciate the events, and instead wasted her time alone whilst her foster family attended. The next few centuries, Tauriel had gone with her foster sister Iesteth, who was happy to drag along a young, rambunctious elleth if it meant having an excuse to turn down the ellons who asked her out.

But now, Iesteth had accepted another elf's invitation to the ball. Midhel, one of Tauriel's friends in the Guard, had shyly asked Iesteth if she would go with her—as friends, of course, though Tauriel knew that both her sister and her friend had hidden romantic feelings for each other.

Tauriel mercilessly teased both of the them about the situation, telling Midhel that she was glad that she'd  _finally_ gotten the courage to ask Iesteth after all this time of useless pining, and complaining to Iesteth that it didn't matter what dress she wore to the ball because she was sure Midhel would like them all.

It was only after Midhel asked Tauriel about her own plans for the holiday that she realized she had a problem.

"So, who are  _you_  going with, Tau?" Midhel asked one day as they changed out of uniform after a day's work. They were in the Guard's changing room, a place Tauriel sometimes felt more comfortable in than she did her own home.

Tauriel stopped mid-strip as she considered the question, her shirt half on and half off. Obviously she was  _going_ , but with whom? Iesteth was unavailable, and Tauriel did not like the romantic connotation of asking someone outside of her family.

In fact, even though she was now well into her five-hundred-fifties, Tauriel had never wanted any sort of romantic connection and laughed in the faces of the few ellons who tried to flirt with her; and indeed in the face of Iesteth's healer associate Gailien, an elleth with a haughty attitude, when she had suggested that Tauriel might be attractive even though she was also "annoying".

"I don't know," she replied, more breezy than she felt. She finished changing clothes as she further pondered her dilemma.

"Well, you  _are_  going, aren't you?" Midhel pressed.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. She loved balls and dancing, even without the partner dances. Plus, the traditional Arrival meals were excellent. "I'll figure something out."

"Ask a friend," Midhel suggested. "Someone who won't take it too seriously."

"Yeah..." Tauriel frowned. "I just don't want anyone to think anything romantic of it."

"Oh, Tau." Midhel laughed. "Who knows—maybe you'd  _like_  it if you tried it."

"Not me," Tauriel insisted.

"I'd say you could ask Orelon," Midhel said, mentioning her shy, bookish brother, "but he finally got up the courage to ask Gailien—you know he's mad about her."

"Did you make a deal with him?" Tauriel teased. "If you asked Iesteth, he'd ask G—"

"No!" Midhel looked away, her hair falling in her blushing face. "Iesteth doesn't think—I don't—she—"

"Mh _mmm_ ," Tauriel said, smiling knowingly.

"Anyway..." Midhel cleared her throat. "I don't know what he sees in Gailien."

"She's a snob," Tauriel agreed. "She flirted with me once, and even then managed to insult me!"

"You're a good flirt, Tau," Midhel said. "I mean, you would be if you tried."

Tauriel rolled her eyes. "You always say that I'm flirting when I'm really  _not_. You  _know_  I don't feel that way, Midhel. I wish you'd stop joking so."

Midhel shrugged, unconvinced. Tauriel held back a sigh. For all she was a good friend, Midhel would never believe she simply didn't like romance.

"Well, you still need a date," Midhel said. "What about Glándir?"

Tauriel glanced across the hall to where Glándir was talking to his sibling, Úrphen. Úrphen already had a date, their sweetheart Feren, but she and Glándir were good enough friends that he wouldn't take it the wrong way if she asked him. Probably.

"Alright, fine," she agreed. "I'll ask him."

She made her way through the room, squeezing past the changing Guards. Her truest friends were Midhel, Glándir, and Úrphen, but she was friendly with most of her companions and smiled at a few of them as she passed.

Across the room she saw Legolas, son of King Thranduil. He liked to accompany the Guard sometimes, to escape his father's stifling responsibilities (or so Tauriel assumed). Tauriel had always been slightly intimidated by him—he was royalty, not very talkative, and much older and more experienced than her.

As she met his eyes, Legolas nodded to her. Tauriel, awkward, nodded back.

"...can't believe this happened," Glándir was saying mournfully as Tauriel approached. He was noticeably distressed, wringing his hands as he was wont to do in times of fear. "I mean—it's Captain Garaveth!"

Úrphen's lips quivered as they fought to hold back a smile. "It is quite unfortunate, brother," they said, clearly amused by Glándir's anxieties.

"What's wrong?" Tauriel asked brightly, swinging her arm around Glándir's shoulder in comradery.

Startled, Glándir yelped and flinched away. "Tauriel!" he cried. "Some warning, next time!"

Úrphen snorted. " _I_  saw her coming," they pointed out.

"So what's the problem?" Tauriel asked again.

Glándir huffed, composing himself. "Oh, it's just..." He grimaced as he buttoned up his shirt. "Garaveth...she..." He blushed fiercely.

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. "What, did she kick you off the Guard because you couldn't get to the point quick enough?"

"Our esteemed Captain asked if my dear brother Glándir would accompany her to the ball," Úrphen said, not bothering to conceal their amusement any longer.

All Tauriel could do was laugh. Around her, the rest of the Guard trickled out of the room, returning to their personal lives. Midhel, finished with her business, wandered over to join them; out of the corner of her eye, Tauriel saw Legolas fiddling with his bootstraps, oblivious to their conversation.

"Wait— _Garaveth_  asked you?" Midhel said incredulously. "Are we talking about the same Garaveth? Uptight, strict, always on us about our bow-work—"

"—and apparently impressed with mine," Glándir said glumly. "I couldn't say no! Clearly no one else would go with her, and..."

"This is just plain odd," Tauriel said, shaking her head. "When  _I'm_  Captain of the Guard, this won't be an issue."

"Planning on ousting old Garaveth?" Midhel asked.

"Well, an elleth can dream," she said. Suddenly she frowned. "Wait. I guess this ruins Midhel's scheme."

"What scheme?" Úrphen asked, glancing at her.

"Tau can't go to the ball without a partner," Midhel explained. "And I'm going with her sister this year."

"Finally," Tauriel muttered.

Midhel shot her a glare, but continued: "She's worried someone would take her too seriously if she asked them—get romantic notions, which honestly isn't so bad, Tau—"

"I'm  _not_  interested!" Tauriel cried. "I've never been, Midhel, and I never will—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Midhel dismissed.

"So ask one of us," Glándir said. "Done. We won't take it the wrong way."

"Well, I can't," Tauriel said. "Midhel and Iesteth are going together, Úrphen has Feren, and now you're going with old crabby Garaveth."

"Believe me, I'd rather go with you," Glándir grumbled.

"What about your brother, Midhel?" Úrphen suggested.

"Orelon's going with that brat Gailien," Midhel said. "Hopefully seeing her in her element will open his eyes to how awful she really is...but anyway, it wouldn't work."

"And I am  _not_  about to ask out a stranger," Tauriel said firmly. She sighed dramatically. "Whatever. I'll just stay home. Even my parents will be out, and I'll have the whole place to myself..."

"Go with them," Glándir said.

"I'd rather ask King Thranduil himself," Tauriel said, making a face. "It would be just as embarrassing."

"I'll see who else I know is partnerless," Midhel said. "You're going, Tau, don't worry."

"Midhel..."

"And you'll like whoever I find for you!" she insisted. "Alright. I'm going now—I'm famished."

"Me too," Úrphen agreed.

"I'm too upset to eat," Glándir mumbled, but he followed the two of them away.

"Wait for me!" Tauriel said, turning back. "I forgot to put my bow away, I—" But they were already gone.

She sighed. Oh well, she'd catch up later.

By now, the room was empty save for herself. She quickly finished up, then hurried out the door, only to be stopped by an unexpected figure.

"Oh—Legolas!" Tauriel stepped backwards. "Sorry for almost running into you there, I—"

"No, it's fine," Legolas said. He looked at her awkwardly, but didn't move. Tauriel stared at him, intimidated.

"So..." she said, glancing over his shoulder. "...do you need something? Or...?"

"Well, yes, actually." Legolas coughed, then began: "I am sorry as well—I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with your friends..."

"Oh...um..." Tauriel didn't know what to say to that.

"I'm sorry Midhel didn't believe you like that, when you said you weren't interested in romance," he said. "I know how that feels. My father..." He scowled. "Well, nevermind."

Tauriel had no idea how to respond to any of this. She could scarcely imagine regal, important King Thranduil bugging his son to find a date for the dance, and she had no idea why Legolas had thought to bring this up, especially since he'd scarcely spoken to her before this.

"That's...too bad?" she offered. "Listen, your Highness, it's been great talking to you—"

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?" Legolas blurted out. Then he blinked, as if shocked he'd actually said it. He looked almost as embarrassed as Tauriel felt.

Tauriel stared at him. "Uhhh..." She fought to keep her mouth from flopping open. "I'm sorry, what? Didn't you just say you could relate to me  _not_  wanting a date? Your Highness?" she added as an afterthought.

"Just Legolas is fine," he said, "and yes—that's why I asked. You don't want anything romantic, and neither do I. We go together, and no one expects anything else." He grimaced. "I'm sorry—I know I don't know you that well. It's just that I'm aromantic, and I thought—"

"A romantic?" Tauriel said. "You're confusing me even more, now."

"No— _aromantic_ ," he said. "All one word. It means—it means I don't experience romantic attraction. I don't want romance, I don't feel attracted to people, I don't wish to marry—"

"Wait, that has a name?" Tauriel's eyes widened. Something inside her clicked into place, like the final piece of a puzzle at last discovered.

"I...it's a Westron word," he explained. "Father wouldn't understand it...he wouldn't like it if he knew... And I'm sorry for assuming—"

"No, no." Tauriel blinked, still shocked by this whole conversation. "You know what? Yes."

"What?"

"Yes!" She laughed giddily, her head spinning. "I'll go with you. And I'm...well, I'll have to think about it some more, but maybe you're right about me being...aromantic." She felt a surge of a strange emotion upon saying the word: like fear and wonder and rightness all mixed up together. She felt that way while fighting sometimes, but this was different.

"Oh!" Legolas exclaimed. "Great! Good. I'll see you then—or a few days before. Do you want to match, or...? No, I suppose Father will insist...And you'll be a guest of honor, since I'm the prince, but other than that it's normal."

Tauriel's mind spun. She'd had no idea that the calculated, cool exterior Legolas put up around people was just a front to conceal a rambling, awkward mess. Just like herself. She didn't have such a mask; she simply let everyone see her many imperfections.

"Okay," she said. "We'll talk later. Thanks, your H—I mean, Legolas. I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Bye." At last he stepped aside, allowing her to race down to the mess hall to meet her friends. This topped Glándir's story for sure—and there was no  _way_  Midhel would believe this...

* * *

The Ball of Arrival came and went, awkwardness and all. Legolas had been nearly mortified to death when he realized he'd acted on impulse and asked Tauriel to accompany him, and the conversation had only devolved from there as he rambled on about aromanticism, a secret he had been keeping for a hundred years, ever since he'd heard the term from a passing Nandor wanderer. He'd just been so excited about the prospect of not being alone anymore—about having an aromantic friend—that his tongue had gotten ahead of his mind.

In the end, he was glad he'd done it. The ball was awkward, sure, but it had been an opportunity to get to know Tauriel better. And it had satisfied his father's pleas for him to get to know the elleths of the kingdom, in hope he'd at last find a wife—even if the elleth he befriended was a wily and independent Guard and not interested in him in the slightest.

That was more than fine by him. He was just as uninterested as she was.

The problem was—Thranduil didn't see it that way. And as over the years, Legolas grew to be better friends with Tauriel and she climbed through the ranks of the King's Guard, Thranduil's original glee at their "relationship" was slowly replaced by a disapproval of his apparent choice in paramour.

Sometimes the Guard would go on longer trips patrolling the furthest boundaries of Thranduil's realm. They would visit those of the realm who felt distant from their king, giving his blessing and offering his aid.

It was before one such trip that Garaveth, Captain of the King's Guard, requested to retire from her position and sail west to Valinor. She was the daughter of one of the original Sinda migrants to the Greenwood, and missed her long-departed family.

Thranduil graciously accepted, and gave her his well-wishes. But now, in the face of a trip to the edge of the wood, the King's Guard was leaderless. Garaveth suggested two names for her successor: Rhosgon, a skilled but strict warrior she had fought with in her youth, not currently serving in the Guard, and—Tauriel.

"I am faced with a decision," Thranduil mused one night as he counseled with his son. "Rhosgon is a good fit, a good leader, but he is not familiar with the Guard and its warriors. I do not know if he would be well-liked or respected."

"Then pick Tauriel," Legolas suggested. "She may be young, but she is capable, and better yet, beloved by the Guard. She is full of compassion for your people, and would serve you well as Captain."

Thranduil sighed. "Yes...but Legolas, are you sure your judgement is not...clouded, somewhat?"

Legolas blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," Thranduil said, smiling. "You're in love with her. Now, she's not the one  _I_  would have picked for you, but—"

"Father!" Legolas protested, his stomach souring. "Have I not told you time and time again—"

"I know it when I see it," Thranduil said. "And someday soon, you'll know it, too."

Legolas excused himself from the counsel shortly after that comment, begging the need for some fresh air. Needing to vent his anger, he made his way to the practice courts and grabbed his bow.

He shot target after target until his arms were sore and his finger numb. He stretched his shoulders, feeling much better, and began to make his way back to his father. There were still other, more important things to discuss.

"Legolas!" a voice called out to him. "Hey! Legolas!"

He turned to see Tauriel. A wave of irrational resentment flooded over him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, a smile wide across her face—should he not feel some sort of attraction to her? Should he not be in love, like his father insisted he was?

"Oh, Legolas!" She beamed at him. She  _was_  beautiful, undeniably, with bright red hair and sparkling eyes, but her form and face held no special feeling for him. "You won't believe it—I just spoke with the King! Old crabby Garaveth is sailing West, and I'm to be the new Captain of the Guard!"

Legolas forced a smile on his face. Why did he have to be this way? Why could he not love her, or  _anyone_  at all? Why did he have to be aromantic?

"That's incredible," he said with all the enthusiasm he could muster. He was truly happy for her, and glad Rhosgon had not received the position; she was a much better fit. "I told him you were the right choice—you'll be wonderful."

"Thanks!" She crushed him in a hug, then stepped back as he made no move to return the embrace. "Oh—sorry. I should have asked first." She looked at him closer, frowning. "Are you alright?"

He rubbed his forehead, dropping his flimsy facade of excitement and shaking his head. "I will be fine, Tauriel."

She crossed her arms. "Come on, I know that's not true. Tell me."

"It's just..." Legolas began to walk away, leading her to a nearby bench. "It's my father. He still insists I'm...in love with you."

Tauriel scowled. "How many times have you told him otherwise?"

"He thinks I'm in denial," he grumbled. "He...he doesn't know I'm aromantic. Or that you are, too." He glanced at her. "You are, right?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You know what—yes, I am. I wasn't sure for awhile, but really, I'm nearly six hundred. I think I ought to have fallen in love by now, if I was going to."

"I thought so." He smiled. "It's nice, having someone else like me—even if Father thinks we're in love. Which couldn't be further from the truth!"

"You should tell him you're aromantic," Tauriel suggested. "If he's being so stubborn, give him a good explanation." She nudged him. "Come on, what are you afraid of?"

He didn't meet her eyes. "I don't know if he'll believe me."

"He won't until you give him something to believe," she pointed out.

He shook his head. "It's...too personal. You're the only one I've told. I don't..."

"Just think about it," Tauriel said. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay?"

"Alright," he agree. "I'll think about it."

"Good!" She stood. "Now, I've got to go tell everyone  _my_  news! Not that I'm aromantic—though I wouldn't be afraid—but that I'm the new Captain! Come on, Legolas—my friends will love it if you come and celebrate with us!"

He relented, and followed her to her impromptu party.

* * *

Tauriel came away from the dungeons giddy, her head spinning. That conversation with the dwarf, Kíli—her heart squeezed at the thought of his name—made her breathless and dizzy. She smiled as she wandered back to her room, not even thinking about where she walked.

She ignored the commotion of the Feast of Starlight. It was one of her favorite holidays of all (she liked it much better than the Ball of Arrival, certainly), but her soul was already full of starlight that night.

Kíli's thoughts on the stars and the beauty of the night made her head spin, expanding beyond what she had ever considered. A dwarven perspective on the sky was fascinating—it seemed that Kíli's earth-bound heart saw it as distant, untouchable, something to be admired from afar. But to Tauriel's elven spirit, the sky was alive, a breathing mass of light and magic she could touch with her bare hands.

Her sister, Iesteth, soon stumbled home with Midhel on her arm. They were ridiculously in love, openly admitting it now after all these years, clinging to each other and pausing in corners for soft words and sweet kisses. Their hushed murmurs interrupted her as she stared out the window in her own private celebration of the stars.

"Tau!" Iesteth exclaimed, she was a little tipsy, giggling incessantly and speaking through hiccups. "I didn't think you'd be back yet!"

"Weren't you on dungeon duty?" Midhel asked.

"Legolas relieved me." He'd been none to pleased to see her talking to Kíli, but she had barely cared. "I almost wish he hadn't. There was a dw—" She broke off; it was probably not the best idea to admit to fraternizing with the prisoners. Legolas knowing was bad enough. "It was quite peaceful, even if I did miss the party." She'd do it again in a heartbeat.

"There's always next time." Iesteth wriggled out of Midhel's grasp and walked over to her sister. "You look odd, are you alright?"

Tauriel smiled. "Of course I'm alright. I'm wonderful!"

"You know, Tau, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were in love, or something!" Midhel exclaimed.

She snorted. "Yeah, right. I know what love looks like, and it's you two saps. Besides, I'm aromantic, you know that, and I haven't anyone to be in love with!"  _Except..._  the voice in the back of her mind whispered. She ignored it.

"I didn't mean anything by it." Midhel grabbed Iesteth's hand. "Come on, dear, let's lie down for a bit."

They wandered into Iesteth's room and closed the door, leaving Tauriel alone with her thoughts and the stars.

What nonsense Midhel was spouting, to say she looked in love! Tauriel had never once fallen for anyone, and had no desire to. Every time she needed a date for a party or an event, she took Legolas, and everyone who mattered knew they were friends.

Still...this feeling was different.  _Strikingly_  different, and the fact that she was so enamoured of a dwarf...

Tauriel returned to Kíli's prison cell again the next night, and then the next. They didn't always talk, especially with the other dwarves listening in, but she would slip him extra food and tell him about her day. In return he would regale her with wild tales of his adventures far from home, and Tauriel would listen with a heart lighter than she'd ever known.

Tauriel would lay awake at night thinking about him; she would wonder whether it was treason to befriend a prisoner; she would dream of his smile and wonder how it would feel for his hand to grasp hers...

And she realized that, perhaps, Midhel had been right.

Nothing terrified her more. All her life, she had been free of this—whatever  _this_  was. Was it love? Love for a dwarf, a prisoner, a friend? Did this mean that all she had built herself around had been false, all this time? Was she not truly aromantic?

Tauriel stopped visiting Kíli after that, too scared that she would fall deeper in love—if this was love. Surely she only  _wanted_  to love him, wanted to feel what she'd never felt before. But why, then, for Kíli? Why not for Legolas, or Midhel, or her other friends?

After a few weeks of ignoring Kíli, she was swallowed up in guilt. She  _missed_  him, more than she'd ever thought she could miss a person, and she wanted to be near him. If their circumstances were different—if he were an elf, or she a dwarf, and if she were more certain in her own mind—then perhaps, perhaps...

At last, Tauriel overcame her own frustration with herself and succumbed to her loneliness. She dared not talk of her love to any of her elven friends, who would find her freakish, and though she would not utter any fluffy nonsense to Kíli, at least she could speak with him again.

She made her way back down to Kíli's cell, hoping he had not forgotten her or turned to hating her for her absence. What if he hadn't missed her? What if he had only been putting up with her before? And, even more terrifyingly: what if he loved her back?

But when Tauriel arrived in the dungeons, all thirteen dwarves had vanished.

* * *

Looking back, Legolas wasn't sure how things got so out of hand so quickly.

One day, his life was absolutely normal, and the next, he was chasing a troupe of dwarves to a dragon-infested mountain with his crazy, relentless best friend always running two steps ahead of him. Tauriel seemed to understand what was going on, but he certainly didn't: sure, he'd like to recapture the dwarves, too, but going to such great lengths for them didn't seem like much of a smart idea.

"Tauriel, why are we doing this?" he demanded as he raced behind her. She was tireless, pursuing her prey with a one-minded intensity that frightened him.

She ignored him, but her pace slowed somewhat. Legolas caught up to her and stopped in front of her, crossing his arms.

Tauriel moved to run around him, but he grabbed her arm. "No," he said. "We're talking about this. Now."

She yanked her arm out of his grasp, but didn't race off again. "I told you why I'm doing this. We cannot allow your father to isolate us in such times of danger—"

"No, no, I got that." Legolas shook his head. "But why the dwarves? We will not be able to recapture them on our own."

Tauriel bit her lip and said nothing.

"I know there's something you're not telling me," Legolas said. "We're good enough friends that you should not be keeping secrets from me, especially when I'm the one accompanying you on this journey."

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face, her face blushing the same fiery red as her locks. "It's...well, I don't think you'd like to hear it, is all."

"Tell me," he urged.

She began to walk again, taking slow steps forward and not meeting his eyes. "The dwarf. The one you caught me talking to, the night of the Feast of Starlight. He's...charmed me."

"Dwarvish magic?" Legolas demanded. "He's cast some horrid spell on you? I knew you shouldn't—"

Tauriel snorted. "No, idiot. He's no more magic than you. I mean he's  _charming_ , he's nice and friendly and he'll listen to me...I've been down to talk with him since then, and I...Midhel, she said that I looked, I was...like I..."

She stopped, trembling slightly. Legolas walked up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her back.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She turned to look at him, a strange mix of fear and fire in her eyes. "I think I'm in love with him."

Legolas's hand fell limp back to his side. He stared, unable to comprehend what she had just said. There were so many layers of impossibility in that statement; a ridiculous blend of the improbable and the unfathomable.  _Tauriel_...in  _love_...with a  _dwarf..._?

"Say that again?" he prompted weakly.

"You heard me!" she snapped, stepping away from him. "I'm in love with him. There, I've said it. I hadn't...no one ever...I didn't..." She wiped a tear away from her eye. "I'm terrified for him. I want him to be safe—I need to make sure he's okay. That orc, it said..."

Legolas rubbed his forehead. "But I thought you were...and Tau...he's a dwarf!"

"I know it's ridiculous, but my heart lifts when I speak with him and I feel warm and I've never felt like this before, and—" She took a deep breath before continuing: "I thought I was aromantic, for a long time, and maybe I was, or maybe I am except for this one time, but Legolas, I don't know what else to call it!"

Legolas stood still, trying not show in his body how much he was shaken by this revelation. What did this mean for him? Would he change too, in time? Was Tauriel right or was she crazy? Was he being selfish by making this about himself instead of her? Would this damage their friendship and their purpose in chasing the dwarves?

"Legolas?" Tauriel asked hesitantly. "Are you...do you—"

He sighed. "I don't know. I don't—I don't understand. I thought you were...I thought  _we_  were…"

"We are still friends!" she exclaimed. "Nothing could change that,  _mellon_. Not even this. And I thought you of all people would—would accept that—that which is uncommon. I know this is odd, insane perhaps, but it burns within me! I cannot deny it. I need to follow him."

"I've come this far with you," Legolas decided. "I will continue with you. I cannot say how this will...change things, but Tauriel—" He reached out and took her hand. "I will not abandon you, especially not in such dangerous times."

She embraced him then, eyes full of unshed tears, but the trouble in Legolas's heart was yet unquiet.

* * *

_There's two sides to every tale: of his and of hers, of the victor and the loser, of love and of loss. This tale is no exception._

_To hurt is to be alive; to love is to die._

_Let us live, first._

* * *

Tauriel sat alone on unfamiliar steps, her heart empty. She stared into the grey sky, the stars clouded over with a thin mist of distant rain.

She wished none of this had ever happened.

She felt the stone in her hand, cold and unforgiving. Blood was caked in the engravings of the runes, the mingled reminder of Kíli's sacrifice and her sorrow and the orc's malice.

She wished she'd never met Kíli. She wished she'd stayed in the Greenwood. She wished her heart had never betrayed her mind. She wished she was still—

A sob wrenched itself from her lungs. Furious, she threw the stone away from her, watching it tumble down the steps.

"It's not  _fair_ ," she cried in a voice hoarse from disuse.

This had been her one chance—the one time that the secret hope that she could find romance had reached her. And she had wasted it.

"I just wanted..." But she didn't even know what she wanted. A chance for love she'd long since given up on? A reason to see the world beyond the borders of her forest home? An opportunity to escape and find a new life?

She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, slower and steadier than normal, but she'd recognize that pace anywhere.

"Legolas," she said, falling still.

He sat down beside her. He didn't look her in the eyes, only staring off into the infinite grey horizon.

Silence between them; so thick Tauriel could have cut it with her knife.

"I'm leaving," he said at last.

She didn't respond. Her eyes were trained on the stone, fallen to the wayside a few feet away. She regretted having thrown it, now.

"I'm not going back home," Legolas continued. "I'm...going exploring. Going looking."

"For what?" She laughed bitterly. "There is nothing to find."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Something. Something more than..."

Her laugh faded into another sob. She bent over, letting her hair fall in her face. She hated her hair now; she remembered how Kíli had so fondly run his fingers through it, how he'd been so taken by its fire while in the darkness of the dungeons.

"More than this?" Tauriel turned to look at her longtime friend, pushing him away from her. "Than  _this_? Than  _me_? Than  _everything_ , everything I've lost and—can't ever find again—"

Legolas rose to his feet, towering over her. "Like  _I_  haven't lost anything? My—my father, I don't know if he'd even welcome me back! You've become an entirely different person! Your— _love_ , if that's what you choose to call it—has shaken my entire foundation! I don't know who I  _am_  anymore, Tauriel!"

"Kíli  _changed_  me!" she snapped back. "He changed my world, in so many ways, and now—now he's  _gone_! I could have saved him, I should have saved him—this was my one chance!"

"For what?" Legolas spat. "For love? Is my love not enough? What about Midhel's? Iesteth's? Your parents'? The Guard's? Does this foolish infatuation weigh more than all you've ever known? I thought you were like me, Tauriel! I thought you  _understood_ , but I was wrong!"

Silence again; unbroken until the rain arrived to add to their misery.

"I didn't mean that," he said huskily. "Tauriel, I—I'm sorry. I should go..."

"No," she begged, suddenly needing his company more than anything in the world. "Please.  _Mellon_. I...I don't know if I was ever like you. Aromantic, I mean. Maybe I was. But I'm not anymore. This, this changed me— _he_ changed me, in so many ways. I always dreaded this and longed for it in one breath, but having known it now...it is so much different than I ever imagined. But not better. Never better."

" _Gi melin,_ " Legolas said softly: a confession of love so deep and meaningful that she wept.

He sat back down and took her hand. She laid her head on his shoulder, tears and rain mixed on her cheeks. There was nothing remotely romantic about their connection, and somehow, in that moment, their friendship was all that mattered.

* * *

_There are two sides to every tale. Which is the truth, it cannot be known; even if the endings contradict._

_We have suffered; now, let us heal._

* * *

Tauriel was so busy after the Battle that she had no time to sleep. She aided in healing, she entreated with dwarves and men, she reconciled with Thranduil, she spent a night crying in Legolas's arms and relieving all her stress.

She didn't see Kíli for days.

She knew he was alive. She had seen him, from a distance, and even spoken with some of his kin. But every time she'd tried to find him, something—or some _one_ —had been in their way.

But now, there was nothing holding them back.

She'd gotten his message, scrawled in handwriting she'd never seen before, but the note was instantly recognizable as his. Now, trembling, she came to the location he'd indicated, her thoughts running through her head so fast she could barely comprehend them.

When she opened the door, he was already there. He turned round and beheld her, his face lighting up as if he'd never seen anything lovelier.

Tauriel looked at him and her heart warmed. Any doubts and fears she had dissipated for the moment.

"Kíli," she murmured.

He flew towards her, stopping barely an inch from her body. "Tauriel!" he whispered. "By the stars...you're even more beautiful than I remember."

Kíli reached for her, desperately, hungrily: his hands grasped hers and he stood on his tiptoes with his lips waiting for a kiss.

Tauriel wanted to hold him. She wanted to lean into him and meet his kiss, she wanted to take him in her arms and never let go. But all her worries came rushing back, and instead she sighed away, slipping from his grasp.

Kíli stepped back, eyes shining with hurt. "Tauriel?" he asked. "Are you...am I—"

"No, no!" she said quickly. She grabbed his hands again, begging him to understand. "I—Kíli, it is not what you think. Only, I...I am so new to all this, and...I've never...I don't...I'm not sure I'm—ready. For that."

He stared for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I...think I understand." He smiled, and Tauriel's heart swelled again. "It's okay. I love you enough to wait—forever, if need be."

"Love?" she said in a strangled voice. "Kíli..."

"Is this not love?" he asked earnestly. "You have changed my life in weeks more than it ever did in decades! I have sacrificed for you, and you for me—I think that must count as love, should it not?"

Tauriel laughed and placed a kiss on his forehead. She drew him near and cradled him close, his head resting on her chest. "Perhaps it is love, then."

"I can hear your heartbeat," he murmured. "It loves me as much as I do you."

"Kíli..." She sighed. "Before we...try this, whatever it is—there are so many issues, Kíli. I am an elf, you are a dwarf; you are a prince and I a common soldier without a home—"

"None of that matters," Kíli insisted. "Tauriel, I love you. I love you!" He laughed, lifting her into the air and spinning her around. Tauriel cried out in surprise, but landed with laughter.

"I love you!" she echoed through her giggles. "Kíli, I—" She stopped herself, placing a hand over her mouth in surprise. Admitting that was terrifying new ground, and it reminded her of what she had been trying to say.

"There is something you must know," she said softly. She stepped back, letting his fingers slip from hers. "I am...I  _was_...Oh, I don't know. I've never been in love before, Kíli. I've never had any passing infatuation, or a sweetheart, or—anything. I thought I never would. I'm aromantic—or perhaps I'm not." She shook her head. "I don't know anymore. It's...complicated."

Kíli stared, frowning thoughtfully. "But you love me?"

"I know that I love you; but I know also that I am who I always have been." That made little sense even to her, but was the nearest she could come to the truth. "Perhaps it is a—a spectrum, of sorts. And I lie in the grey space in between."

"I don't quite understand," he admitted, "but all that is important is our love. I don't mind its nature, if you don't. My brother, Fíli—he's like that, a little. He's never been in love either; I think he may have mentioned that word, 'aromantic', before. I know it's confusing. Love always is."

"Love," she said. "I've loved before, in many ways." She reached for him again, and this time it was her pulling him in, her leaning down as he leaned up, her lips parting, ever so slightly, in preparation for an act she'd never considered something she would do. "I'm not certain about this way, but..."

She kissed him, then, and it was everything and nothing like she'd imagined. It was unpleasantly wet, but wonderfully warm; she could feel his worry and his welcome all among the wonder of it all.

"...I'm willing to give it a try," she finished, and kissed him again.

* * *

"Actually, I have been to Erebor before," Legolas corrected. "I was at the Battle of the Five Armies."

Gimli raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Fighting with your father's army, I assume?"

"Well...kind of." Legolas scratched his head and stretched out on the grass. "I was fighting with my friend, Tauriel, and she was on the side of your people."

"Because of...Kíli," Gimli said thoughtfully.

"Yes," Legolas agreed. Gimli said his cousin's name with the same kind of hesitancy Legolas had when first discovering Tauriel's...situation. He'd thought it strange, then, but now with a dwarf of his own—well, he thought he understood her better.

"That is an odd tale." Gimli looked at Legolas. "And you were a part of it! My friend, this is remarkable. I nearly was, but my father said I was too young." He laughed then, a warm and hearty sound that Legolas had more affection for than he thought possible.

"It was a strange time," he admitted. "Tauriel and I have kept in correspondence since, though she's gone off to other lands. It changed both of us; her more than me."

"How so?" Gimli asked. He placed a hand on Legolas's own. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Well, I'm aromantic, and so are you," Legolas began. "Tauriel—she was, too. Aside from the whole dwarf thing, her falling in love was quite a shock for me. It changed her whole outlook on herself, but only shook mine." He snorted. "I was quite concerned that the same thing would happen to me."

"And it has, in a fashion!" Gimli joked.

"Not exactly, and you know it." Legolas poked his partner lightly. "We're not exactly 'in love'."

"Of course, but I've quite defeated your hatred of dwarves!" Gimli laughed.

"I never  _hated_  dwarves, I only..." Legolas saw the smirk on Gimli's face and sighed in defeat. "Nevermind."

"And I never hated elves, either." He squeezed Legolas's hand, then asked, "Did you ever tell your father you were aromantic? You've mentioned how...overbearing he can be."

"I did, a decade or so ago," Legolas said. "He...didn't get it then, but he's stopped being so forward about it. I know he loves me anyway, which is what really matters."

"Aye," Gimli agreed. "Though I hope for your sake it gets better."

"I'm sure it will," Legolas said, half trying to convince himself. "Most things do, in time. I remember when I was in Erebor, I couldn't imagine the place as a thriving kingdom, but it is your home now."

"So you've been to Erebor, but have you really  _been_  there?" Gimli said. "Have you seen all its halls and wonders, or just its war-torn walls?"

"I didn't go inside," he conceded. "Perhaps you ought to show me around sometime."

"Only if you take me to your forest!" Gimli said. "It must be better than Fangorn. More welcoming, I'd assume."

"The Ball of Arrival is coming up," Legolas said thoughtfully. "Last time, I took Tauriel, but she's not there anymore. Maybe I could take you."

"Excellent!" Gimli rubbed his hands together. "Wait until my father hears that I've gone to the halls of Thranduil! He didn't take my being with you that well, and this will only exasperate him more!"

"I have no idea how I'm going to explain you to my father," Legolas sighed. "He was confused enough over Tauriel, and my aromanticism—I can't imagine what he'll think of Gimli the Dwarf!"


End file.
